Opinion

Soyinka Prize In Iliteracy

On 13 July 2018, the 84th birthday of Olumo Wole Soyinka, the 1986 Nobel Laureate for Literature, I honour him by revisiting a debate that is raging on the Internet over what many call my misreading of his work, especially with reference to my interpretation of his play, Death and King’s Horseman

Published

7 years ago

July 17, 2018

NewTimes Newspaper

Soyinka, Pyrates Confraternity And The God Factor

On 13 July 2018, the 84th birthday of Olumo Wole Soyinka, the 1986 Nobel Laureate for Literature, I honoured him by revisiting a debate that is raging on the Internet over what many call my misreading of his work, especially with reference to my interpretation of his play, Death and King’s Horseman. Literary experts have been marvelling about the “Author’s Note” that accompanies Death and the King’s Horseman by Wole Soyinka.

Most playwrights leave it to the directors and producers of the play to interpret it as they wish but Soyinka was worried that most experts were misreading the play. He took the unusual authoritarian step of stipulating how the play should be interpreted but the critics appear not to notice and have continued to misread the play, in my own humble opinion. Soyinka left clues that would guide readers to decode his original intention in writing the play but most literary critics miss the point and some accuse me of being the mis-reader.

The very first sentence in the author’s note may have led many critics astray by stating that the play is based on real historical “events which took place in Oyo”, which the author defined as “an ancient Yoruba city of Nigeria”. This is misleading in a number of ways that literary critics should have been able to understand. To say that the events took place in 1946 would be to localise the time and space of the dramatic events whereas in the world of theatre, events do not take place exclusively in the setting but also on every stage where the play is produced.

Soyinka expected that literary theorists would understand that the playscript is not simply an archival document or ethnographic report but the work of original creation even when based on real events.

The play was not expected to be read, as the verbatim report of a tragic case that took place once upon a time. This is true of all works of creative writing that are supposed to be inventive no matter how much resemblance there may be between fiction and reality. In fact, many writers include a disclaimer that that any resemblance to real events was unintentional. As a matter of fact, the same can be said about reality genres that are full of inventions too. Soyinka clearly stated in the first paragraph of his author’s note that he made “changes” in the narrative “in matters of detail, sequence and of course characterisation”.

He also informed the illiterate critics that he deliberately set the play back a few years “while the war was still on, for minor reasons of dramaturgy.” Here, Soyinka is guiding the would-be producer away from a simplistic historical interpretation of the play as being only relevant to the case of 1946 given that dramaturgy grants artistic license that defies the laws of historical specificity. In addition, Soyinka may have misled the interpreters of the play by saying that Oyo was an “ancient Yoruba city of Nigeria”. Here he could be challenged by historians who may point out that Oyo was an ancient Yoruba Empire and not simply a city and that by 1946, it was no longer simply a Yoruba city but a multicultural one.

Moreover, nothing “of Nigeria” can be said to be ancient because Nigeria itself is a modernist invention by colonisers. The hint about the Nigerian setting of the play should have encouraged the critics to understand that the play is not only about a Yoruba tragedy but about a Nigerian tragedy. The reference to “while the war was still on” should have massaged the memory of the critics to remind them that the play was published only five years after a tragic genocidal war in Nigeria in which Yoruba elites played a leading aggressive role along with other ethnic elites in Nigeria. This play, in my lay opinion, is better understood, as part of the soul-searching by Soyinka after he was released from solitary confinement for opposing the genocidal war against the Igbo. Why were highly educated Yoruba leaders the ones who cheered on the genocide against the Igbo in Biafra?

Also, Soyinka indicated that those who were interested only in the factual account of the case of 1946 should go and read it in the British National Archives in Kew. He also pointed out that those who wanted to read a more exact historical re-enactment of the case should consult the “fine play in Yoruba (Oba Waja) by Duro Ladipo”. In other words, Death and the King’s Horseman is not that kind of historical re-enactment nor is it the kind of “misbegotten’ German television film about the case. The play was a more urgent intervention while Soyinka was in exile following the end of the war and his release from solitary confinement for having the audacity to oppose tyranny. Unlike his other plays, he did not wait for the play to be produced before he published it. I believe that Soyinka was directly and indirectly challenging his fellow Nigerian intellectuals to account for their opportunism in supporting a genocidal war that took 3.1 million lives in 30 months.

In the third paragraph of the author’s note, Soyinka declared that the “bane of themes of this genre” is that once the text appears, “they acquire the facile tag of ‘clash of cultures’”. He rejected such a label as “prejudicial” in the sense that it is prone to “frequent misapplication” and also because the label “presupposes” a potential equality in every given situation between the cultures of the coloniser and the colonised “on the actual soil of the latter”. Soyinka went on to award “the overseas prize in illiteracy and mental conditioning” to the writer of the blurb of the American edition of his novel, Season of Anomy, for “unblushingly” stating that the novel is about the “clash between old values and new ways, between western methods and African traditions”.

Soyinka explained that it is due to “this kind of perverse mentality” that he was forced to warn future producers (and critics) of the play to avoid “a sadly familiar reductionist tendency” and instead attempt to capture the “the far more difficult and risky task of eliciting the play’s threnodic essence.” Experts on the work of Soyinka are baffled by this injunction and wonder openly what he was banging on about? What is Soyinka trying to hide? He was trying to reveal something.

I offer the original interpretation that Soyinka was referring to the genocide against the Igbo which was the theme of the novel that he referred to, Season of Anomy, in which he recounted the eye-witness account of how fellow Nigerians hunted down tens of thousands of innocent Igbo men, women and children and massacred them in a pogrom that led to the secession of the Eastern region and the intensification of the genocide. In that novel, he mocked the archaeologists for poking around in search of fossilised bones while fresh blood flowed like river in the country and they did not seem to be bothered.

He also challenged the sociologists who came with “erudite irrelevances” about marriage and divorce but refused to join him in opposing a genocidal war. The novel depicted the Marxists who were locked up in a mental asylum as phrase-mongers who failed to recognise the revolutionary situation in the country and instead rallied in support of the genocidal military dictatorship rather than turn the civil war into a liberation war. To suggest that the novel was about the clash of cultures was a strategy to condition the mentality of Nigerian intellectuals towards the acceptance of the propaganda that the Igbo who led the struggle for decolonisation were primitive tribalists perhaps because they had no chiefs while the ethnic groups that ganged up against them were more civilised because they were monarchical, according to the ideologues of colonial domination.

Walter Rodney also observed that to call the genocide against the Igbo a tribal war would be to call Shell BP a tribe (along with the United Kingdom and the Soviet Union) and Ikenna Nzimiro argued that the Marxists in Biafra were engaged in class struggles. The “threnodic essence” of the play refers to funeral songs in Greek tragedies and I believe that Soyinka was inviting the producers of the play to imagine a national mourning for the 3.1 million killed in Biafra that the country has refused to mourn. Agwuncha Arthur Nwankwo has been calling for a National Day of Igbo Mourning to be recognised by the Nigerian government as part of the atonement.

In the final paragraph of the author’s note, Soyinka observed that an alternative structuralist interpretation of the play is to see it as a cruel joke on the British colonial District Officer. He quickly dismissed such a reading as distasteful and added that he deliberately avoided writing dialogue or scenes that would support such a misinterpretation. He dictated that, “No attempt should be made in production to suggest it”. This sounds like an angry response to critics who choose to misread his works for ideological reasons while ignoring the concrete conditions that his works address.

A prominent Marxist literary theorist that I admire, Biodun Jeyifo, who is an expert on the work of Soyinka, was invited by the British Broadcasting Corporation to write about any work of literature that he saw as being representative of the global culture. He chose to write beautifully about Death and the King’s Horseman, as an anti-colonial play that tried to subvert the use of the Queen’s English by creating a “future” tradition of the Anglophone that was more figurative than the English language.

He invoked the work of Marxist cultural studies by Raymond Williams and by Stuart Hall to suggest that the other Englishes around the world serve to subvert the domination of the world by Standard English. I pointed out that his interpretation is too superficial for a Marxist because the “thredonic essence” of the play was not to show that Africans could speak English better than the English. I suggested that a cultural studies reading of the play would not have focused exclusively on the beautiful writing or language of the play but would have tried to see the challenge to monarchism and oppressive traditions in the play.

Jeyifo told me privately that I should go and read the play again because it is not against the monarchy or against ritual suicide but simply against the colonial domination of African cultures. I admitted that I could be accused of misreading the play but I called it a strategic misreading and wondered if it is possible for an expert on the work of Soyinka to misread it. Soyinka seems to think so and that is the whole point of his detailed telling off of the experts in his author’s note.

Contrary to the claim that Death and the King’s Horseman is only an anti-colonial play, Soyinka concluded his author’s note by stating that, “The Colonial Factor is an incident, a catalytic incident merely.” To him, the central “confrontation” or conflict that he tried to resolve in the play was “metaphysical” in the sense that it played out in the world of “the Yoruba mind – the world of the living, the dead and the unborn, and the numinous passages which links all: transition”.

Soyinka was puzzling about the metaphysics of the Yoruba worldview that made it possible for the best educated characters in the play to be the ones who cheered most vociferously for Elesin to abide by the tradition that expected him to kill himself in honour of a dead king. Similarly, Soyinka was wondering why the best educated Yoruba were the cheer-leaders of the genocide against the Igbo. Soyinka advised producers to try and capture this tragedy by using music to represent the macabre dance to the “music from the abyss” by the intellectuals who danced while millions were being slaughtered in Biafra.

I am not an expert in dramaturgy but I love the work of Soyinka. I cited his essay on Neo-Tarzanism in my criticism of the film, Black Panther, which I called an example of neo-Tarzanism. Following the serialisation of the criticism, I was invited by the KPFK public radio in Los Angeles to discuss the film with an Ethiopian publisher and an African American director of the Pan African Film Festival. During the discussion, the Ethiopian said that we should not condemn the presence of monarchies in Africa because there were popular emperors such as Mansa Musa and Haile Selessie who were admired by Africans and by the African diaspora.

The director of the Pan African Film Festival questioned my reference to Soyinka because he saw Death and the King’s Horseman as an indication that Soyinka was a monarchist who supported even the tradition that the horseman should commit suicide to honour the dead king. As Killmonger asked derisively in the film, I asked, this is your king? I stated that Soyinka used that play and almost every play of his to undermine the institution of the monarchy and call for democracy, which he is on record as admiring in Igbo culture. He spared the life of the Horseman in the play and his other tragedies – Kongi’s Harvest, Madmen and Specialists, King Babu; his novels, his poetry and his memoirs all support my interpretation of his anti-monarchical orientation.

Since the experts who have studied his work have focused almost exclusively on the structuralism, I propose to offer a post-structuralist or deconstruction radicalisation of his body of work to show that the tragedy of the state violence especially against the Igbo is at the centre of the conflicts that he has been trying to resolve. Just as the genocidal war was waged without a cease fire for humanitarian interventions, the author coincidentally instructs on page 8 of Death and the King’s Horseman that “The play should run without an interval.”

I agree with critics who will charge that I am misreading Soyinka here. If so, I will admit to a strategic misreading that is necessitated by placing the text within the context of a recent history of trauma that the author did not simply witness as a bystander but one in which he actively tried to stop the genocide and earned himself solitary confinement without trial. Sociologists approach the work of writers by taking into consideration, the context of the private and the public lives of the authors whereas literary theorists may concentrate exclusively on the technical, language, or structural aspects of the script as instructed by T.S. Eliot in his foundational essay, Tradition and Individual Talent.

What I am offering is a sociology of literature interpretation of Soyinka and I am certain that the rebel in him may force him to disagree with my interpretation and award me a national illiteracy prize. I am not contending that all existing interpretations of Soyinka are wrong. I am only saying that there is something missing in the community of Soyinka interpretations and I contend that what is neglected by critics is not minor but a central aspect of his work – his self-sacrificial opposition to the Igbo genocide in particular as a foundational part of his oppositional aesthetics in the face of tyranny.

Commentator: Biko Agozino.
He is Professor of Sociology and Africana Studies, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University, United States of America.

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Opinion

Stellenbosch: Senzeni Na And Decolonizing Secularity In Africa

Published

22 hours ago

March 11, 2025

NewTimes

Witch Burning, Impunity And Abuses Linked to Witchcraft Beliefs In Benue State

Dr Leo Igwe

By Leo Igwe

In December, I attended a workshop on Decolonizing Secularity in Africa. It was one of my best conferences because it highlighted issues that have worried me over the years. For the first time, I attended an academic conference on religion or secularism in Africa that featured a panel on atheism and humanism in Africa. Organized by Point Sud, this workshop was held at Stellenbosch in South Africa. Interestingly I did not know about Stellenbosch’s colonial history and significance. So I could say with the benefit of hindsight that the choice of Stellenbosch as a venue for this event was adequate. The goal of the workshop was, based on the coloniality of secularity, to interrogate the “liberating force of religion, the secular in ethnic nationalisms, and the ideologies of culturalization, not least in its current revenant, heritagization, in Africa and beyond”. It was great to meet, discuss, and exchange ideas on colonization, decolonization, religion, and secularity with scholars and activists from different parts of the continent and the world. Many issues that emerged at the conference have continued to agitate my mind. First is the so much emphasis on colonization. I have continued to wonder: Can’t we meaningfully discuss African issues without alluding to colonialism? Again, reference is always made to Western colonialism. What about Eastern and other forms? Many parts of America were colonized at one point or the other. Weren’t they? The same with Europe, Asia, and Oceania. But it is only in the case of Africa that there is an overemphasis on Western colonialism. Incidentally, many African scholars have unwittingly joined in explaining Africa through the lens of colonialism, western colonialism.

The fixation on colonialism is not without a reason. I attended an African studies conference some years ago and someone alluded to a comment by a Western scholar, that regarding Africa, before colonialism, there was nothing. There was nothing? I was shocked to hear that comment. Look, that I do not know or nobody knows about a period in history, does not mean that there was nothing. Is it not better to say I do not know than to make such a dimwitted statement? What applies to Africa, applies to other places in the world. There are stages in their histories nobody knows what happened. Or what is known is patchy. That should not be a reason to say that there was nothing.

One issue that engaged attendees was the meaning of ‘decolonizing’. What does it mean to decolonize? Some define decolonization as removing or undoing colonial elements and influences. And if that is the case, what do we remove or undo? And who does that and Why? how do we undo the Western colonial linguistic influence? What about the eastern and other colonial elements? Is it possible or feasible to remove or undo all colonial influences? By the way, is religion or secularity as introduced to Africa decolonized?

Some participants argued that decolonizing secularity implied going back in time before colonialism. So, how far can we go and why? In the process won’t we go back to that time “when there was nothing?” Can’t we decolonize without returning to the past? Can’t we decolonize looking forward and not backward? Is religion or secularity not an embodiment of layers of influences over the years? If we were to peel off these ‘colonial’ elements, what would be left? Some propose a return to the indigenous forms of secularity or religion as the case may be. The question is this: What does indigenous mean? Who defines or determines it? Is the indigenous the same for all? What is considered indigenous to South Africans may not be to Kenyans, Nigerians, or Malians. What is considered indigenous in a part of Nigeria may be a legacy of the colonial influence by another part of Nigeria. So what is indigenous to Africa is not monolithic and regionally applicable.

That leads me to another controversial issue that came up at the workshop, which is, one secularity or multiple secularities. Some of the participants especially those from the Department of Religion, at the University of Cape Town were of the view that there was one secularity, that is the western secularity is manifesting in other climes, in different forms. While other participants from Europe leaned towards the notion of multiple secularities highlighting forms of distinction and differentiation between religion and other social domains across cultures. Although secularism or secularity is Western in origin, what the concept represents manifests in other cultures and societies. Secularities predate Western secularity or manifest and feature in ways that do not fit into or align with Western secularity.

As I noted earlier, there have been colonialisms before Western colonialism. There have been secularities before Western secularity. Although Western colonialism brought the influence of western religion and secularity to bear on various cultures and societies, the colonial encounter does not negate the social differentiation of religion and other domains in these societies. It is only in seeing or articulating secularity in its multiple forms that these situations, dynamics, and intersections could adequately be captured. So, the concept of multiple secularities has enormous explanatory power. It is useful and helpful in highlighting the social distinction of religion and other domains in cultures and societies beyond the West.

For instance, western missionaries introduced christianity and the Christian god to Africa. What we have is one Christianity or Islam manifesting in different forms. Africans have adapted and reinvented the Christian religion over the years, hence the notion of African Christianities. Again while western Christian missionaries introduced Christian religion or religiosity, they did not introduce religion. religiosity, or the idea of god. There are other religiosities apart from and beyond Christianities/Christian religiosities. There are other gods and deities beyond the Christian god/deity. I think the idea of multiple secularities or multiple religiosities has much more descriptive value.

Another issue that came up at the event, not surprisingly so, was apartheid. One of the presenters analyzed the song, Senzeni Na (What have we done?) to buttress his point. I have never heard of the song. I didn’t know its relevance to the anti-apartheid struggle. In the course of the discussions, it was noted how other Africans including Nigerians are not conscious or sensitive to the pains of apartheid. I noticed from the expressions of some South Africans at the meeting that they were not happy with the nonchalant attitudes of Nigerians towards their experience. I believe that black South Africans are right to feel that way. The apartheid was a tragic experience that still hurts blacks in contemporary South Africa. The painful memories won’t quickly go away. Black South Africans should also understand that Nigerians have a different history and experience. They should also not forget that the Nigerian and other African governments contributed a lot to the anti-apartheid struggle. Nigeria supported Nelson Mandela and other heroes and heroines of the struggle.

Many South Africans do not relate to the tragedy of the Rwandan genocide as Rwandans do. They do not relate to the pain and trauma of the Nigerian civil war. In meetings and conferences, they treat these experiences and encounters lightly because these experiences were not a part of their history. As I noted during my conversations with some of the attendees, while I appreciate the pain and trauma of apartheid, Black South Africans must learn to move on because as they say in the Igbo language, Nke chi ka, meaning, the one yet to come, the future one, the one that belongs to tomorrow, is greater. The greatness of South Africa does not lie in the past but in its tomorrow, in its future. It does not mean that we should not refer or draw from the past. We should and we must. But South Africa is not returning to those days when Senzeni Na was sung. The country is forging ahead and moving towards a better and more glorious future.

This song provides a thrust for this forward and onward movement. It highlights the challenges that South Africans face and are facing. But more importantly, this song codifies the pain and suffering of all humans because all oppressed people everywhere; all who suffer persecution within and without South Africa are singing, Senzeni Na.

Igwe, PhD, was a co-convener of Decolonizing Secularity in Africa, Stellenbosch, South Africa, 9–13 December 2024.

Opinion

Commonwealth Day 2025: Together We Can End Witch Hunts And Ritual Attacks

Published

22 hours ago

March 11, 2025

NewTimes

Dr Leo Igwe

By Leo Igwe

As we mark Commonwealth Day 2025, the Advocacy for Alleged Witches protests witch hunts and ritual attacks in Commonwealth countries, and the refusal of the Commonwealth to speak out against these abuses. In many parts of Africa, Asia and Oceania witch hunting is not a thing of the past but an ongoing wave of abuses and violations. In Commonwealth countries such as Ghana, Nigeria, Kenya, Papua New Guinea, persecution of alleged witches rages with force and ferocity. In Ghana, witch persecution results in the displacement of accused persons who then flee to some make shift shelters known as “witch camps”. Those who could not flee to these places like Akua Denteh are murdered in cold blood.

Witchcraft accusation is a form of death sentence for the accused and accused people are sometimes extrajudicially killed despite existing legislations in these countries. Witch trials take place in many countries of the Commonwealth. Trial by ordeal and jungle justice are meted out to the accused. Some weeks ago, an elderly woman who had dementia was accused of witchcraft and beaten to death in Nigeria. In Malawi, alleged witches are stoned to death. In Zambia some political opponents suspected of trying to kill the president using ‘witchcraft’ are standing trial at the state court. Alleged witches, mainly women, children and people with disabilities are attacked, banished, lynched, buried alive or tortured to confess to the ‘crime of witchcraft’.

Witch hunting persists because many countries and groups of countries like the Commonwealth have refused to speak out against these atrocities. The Commonwealth should break its silence on witch hunts and ritual attacks in member countries. It should join the UN in condemning these horrific abuses. The Commonwealth should add its voice to this campaign. It should highlight witch persecution and witch hunting during its meetings and summits. It should call for an end to abuses linked to witchcraft beliefs and ritual attacks. The Commonwealth Day should be an opportunity to recommit to ending this menace. It provides a platform to rally all countries against these violations. No nation should be left behind in the quest to make witch hunting history around the globe.

Together we can end witch hunts and ritual attacks in Commonwealth countries.

Igwe, PhD, directs the Advocacy for Alleged Witches.

Opinion

Lead City @20: The Past And The Present

Published

23 hours ago

March 11, 2025

NewTimes

Dele Jegede In Conversation With Prince Yemisi Shyllon

Prof. Toyin Falola

By Toyin Falola

Our university is now an adult at 20!

About twenty-two years ago, the vision to redefine the frontiers of private education in Nigeria led to the conceptualization of the idea, which birthed a new direction for education. The thoughts and projections of like-minded educators and academic experts led to the establishment of Lead City University (LCU) as a beacon for progressive education in Nigeria. This development came when access to higher education was limited by rigid institutional structures and to federal, state, and a handful of private institutions.

At inception, LCU was envisioned as an academic environment that was expected to balance flexibility with skills and academic excellence. On this note, the university became fully operational in 2005, having scaled through necessary procedures for establishment. Since then, the university has positioned itself as an institution willing to break conventional norms by offering programs that blend theoretical learning with practical application. The goal was clear—to bridge the gap between academia and the real-world demands of the job market, ensuring that students graduated with certificates, competence, and confidence. Hence the word “enterprise graduate”.

Two decades later, Lead City University has become a household name in private tertiary education in Nigeria and earned the trust of parents, guardians, students, and the education community. From its humble beginnings with two campuses around Jericho and Challenge areas of Ibadan, the University has metamorphosed to its current state, reflecting the institution’s journey of ambition, resilience, and a commitment to continuous improvement. To reiterate, the university’s distinct blue, white, and pink colors symbolize the institution’s values for knowledge, human development, creativity and prestige, and excellence. At the same time, the university’s emblem, which depicts a fusion of knowledge, self-reliance, and technological orientation, is not just a design but a representation of LCU’s enduring promise to its students in equipping them with the tools they need to navigate life’s complexities.

In its formative years, Lead City University set itself apart by adopting an academic model that was both innovative and inclusive. Unlike conventional universities that adhered to a one-size-fits-all approach, LCU introduced learning structures that accommodated working professionals, non-traditional students, and young scholars eager for a more practical learning experience. This unique flexibility over time has attracted a diverse student population, making the university a melting pot of ideas and aspirations.

Significantly, and with every sense of humility, it is worth mentioning that the academic offerings at LCU have grown in milestones over the years. What started as a modest selection of undergraduate programs across the two campuses has expanded into a comprehensive curriculum spanning disciplines such as Business Administration, Law, Engineering, Social Sciences, Computer Science, and Mass Communication. More recently, the university reached a significant milestone with the approval and accreditation of its Medical and Health Science programs, including Medicine and Surgery, Pharmacy, and Physiotherapy.

These additions have broadened the school’s academic reach and cemented its credibility as a serious player in Nigeria’s higher education landscape. This has brought much credence to the school, its parent body, and every stakeholder within its system. This is because achieving accreditation for these highly sought-after courses required a high-level strategic investment in infrastructure, faculty recruitment, and curriculum development. The intensity of these has further proven LCU’s unwavering commitment to quality education.

Beyond the classroom, LCU has been at the forefront of promoting an education system that extends beyond academic achievements. It is an apparent recognition that learning should not be confined to lectures and textbooks. To achieve this, the university has integrated entrepreneurship programs, skill acquisition initiatives, and industrial partnerships into its curriculum as a proactive measure for students to withstand today’s competitive job market, where traditional employment opportunities are increasingly fizzling out. It is a welcome development for a 21st-century school, as graduates need more than theoretical knowledge. They need adaptability, innovation, and more practical experience to fit in. It gladdens the heart to know that LCU understands this reality and has taken deliberate steps to ensure its students are equipped with these critical skills.

A defining aspect of the university’s impact over the past two decades has been its emphasis on accessibility. The tradition before was that private universities in Nigeria were often perceived as elitist due to their tuition costs and the social class that enrolled. At one point, there were similar issues with enrollment, as many were not convinced that it was a school their wards could attend.

To mitigate this, LCU has consistently worked to change the narratives by providing scholarships and financial aid to deserving indigent students. These scholarships, awarded based on merit and financial need, remind the institution of its commitment to inclusivity. These opportunities have been life-changing for many students who might have otherwise been unable to afford higher education. By ensuring that education remains within reach for those who need it most, LCU has once again demonstrated its commitment to shaping futures.

Looking at the trajectory and quality of academic delivery obtained in the school, one cannot salute the decision to have a well-grounded faculty. Faculty development has been another cornerstone of LCU’s success. After all, an institution is only as strong as the quality of its educators. Hence, there is a deliberate commitment to recruiting experienced lecturers, researchers, and industry professionals for its academic team. Over the years, the university has built a faculty that blends theoretical expertise with real-world experience. This approach ensures that students are not just taught from textbooks but are mentored by individuals who have made significant contributions in their respective fields. By fostering an environment of mentorship and academic research, the university has maintained high teaching standards, preparing students for professional and educational pursuits.

The physical transformation of Lead City University over the past twenty years is also worth noting. The university, which began with a modest campus, has since expanded into a thriving academic hub, complete with modern lecture halls, state-of-the-art laboratories, well-equipped libraries, and recreational facilities embedded in an architectural design that reflects a blend of tradition and modernity, creating an environment that is both inspiring and conducive to learning. These infrastructural developments are a testament to the university’s long-term vision to make learning conducive in a friendly atmosphere.

However, LCU’s journey has not been without challenges. Like all private institutions, it has had to navigate the complexities of Nigeria’s educational sector, including regulatory policies, economic fluctuations, and the evolving expectations of students and parents. For instance, the unpredictability of the country’s economy has often made financial planning difficult for the institution and its students. Yet, through strategic planning and resilience, LCU has continued to evolve, adapting to changes while maintaining its core mission.

The role of technology in education has also become increasingly significant in recent years, and LCU has recognized the need to integrate digital learning into its academic framework. The COVID-19 pandemic disrupted educational systems globally and became a wake-up call for institutions to adopt more technologically driven learning methods. LCU strengthened its digital learning infrastructure, enabling students to continue their education remotely. The university’s investment in e-learning platforms, virtual labs, and online course delivery models reflects its readiness to embrace the future of education.

At one point, the university displayed mastery of digital tools to drive enrollment. This was in the wake of low enrollments, especially as very few citizens of Oyo State see the school as a prospect. During this period, the university had a large number of its students coming from outside the state. In response, the dedicated marketing teams deployed various traditional and digital tools, effectively utilizing social media, newsletters, and email marketing to achieve outstanding results. This is but a display of innovative thinking by a core department in the school.

As Lead City University celebrates its 20th anniversary, it is at a critical juncture that demands an even more significant commitment to innovation, research, and global academic engagement. The next phase of its journey will undoubtedly require a stronger emphasis on technological integration, expanded research initiatives, and deeper collaborations with local and international institutions. The university has already laid a strong foundation, but the challenge is to build upon it, ensuring that the next twenty years bring even more outstanding achievements.

Lead City at 20 is not just a celebration of longevity but a testament to the power of vision, perseverance, and growth; from a promising idea to a respected institution, LCU’s story is one of transformation and impact.

Looking ahead, the university must continue to evolve, keeping pace with global academic trends while staying true to its mission. Whether through the expansion of its research capabilities, increased industry collaborations, or the continued development of its students, LCU’s future is filled with possibilities. The past twenty years have been remarkable, but the next two decades hold even more significant potential.

For students, alums, faculty, and stakeholders, Lead City University is more than just an institution—it is a community, a movement, and a legacy in the making. As the university steps into the future, it does so with the same ambition and resolve that fueled its inception. The journey is far from over; in many ways, it is only just beginning.

. Falola is Professor Emeritus in the Humanities Lead City University.